


Jaise Khushboo Liye Aaye Thandi Hawa

by chosroes



Category: Ek Ladki Ko Dekha Toh Aisa Laga
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-07
Updated: 2019-02-19
Packaged: 2019-10-23 16:15:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17686802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chosroes/pseuds/chosroes
Summary: When Kuhu met Sweety, sparks flew instantly. Yet so much existed to separate them. Drawn to each other like moths to a flame they stumble into a love that sweeps across the monuments of Hauz Khas to the garden squares of Bloomsbury to the fields of Moga. A love that will test all limits and challenge all beliefs.





	1. Chapter 1

EDIT: I have changed the entirety of the first chapter. Please re-read chapter one before proceeding.

I really wanted to write from Kuhu's perspective since the movie didn't really give us anything about her. This fic will be mostly from her (and some Sweety's) pov during and after the events of the movie. There will also be a healthy dose of backstories for the other characters and things will get darker and grimmer in the later chapters as I explore Sweety's childhood.

I will be using smattering of Hindi phrases and some Bollywood references because when else can I ever use them for a fanfic again? I will provide the best (translation) that I can for them. Please write and let me know what you think!

\---------------------------------------

“Welcome ji. Welcome!” Huge toothy grins, clasped hands and bear hugs greeted them as they walked through the canopy of marigolds at the entrance.

“Congratulations, Valli sahab. Everything looks beautiful.”

“Thank you, Nirmala ji. But our real adornment are guests like you. And who are these young people with you?”

“These are my brother’s children. You met Kuhu at my wedding anniversary, remember?”

“Ah yes. Of course, I remember her,” chimed in the woman next to Valli. “You were in that dance program.”

“She had organized the whole thing.”

“Wonderful! Then you must also dance at my Amrit’s wedding.”

“And this is her brother, my nephew, Raza. He lives in London. He did his MBA there and has a big office at Wall Street.”

“Uh, buaji, Wall Street is in New York.” Kuhu coughed.

“Yes, he also works in New York too. His company sends him all over the world.” Nirmala bua beamed. “He has come to India to find a nice girl.”

“Then he has come to the right place! What better place to meet young unmarried girls other than a wedding?” Valli winked. “In fact, my own niece is here too. She has just completed her BA. She’s very beautiful. It will be a nice pair.”

And just like that, the probability of an impromptu matchmaking opportunity sent a thrill of excitement between three co-conspirators. All the while, Kuhu rolled her eyes at her brother.

“This is so ridiculous. I can’t believe you agreed to this. Worse! You dragged me in here with you. Oh hello! Hello!”

Raza plastered a huge smile for the random strangers who were coming to greet and hug them after they had heard Nirmala bua proudly announce his eligibility.

“You really think I was going to walk into this meat market all by myself?”

“You are the one who wanted to enter this meat market in the first place.”

A gaggle of middle-aged women clutched Raza from behind and pinched his cheeks.

“So handsome.” “This is the Londonwala, right?” “Hai, look at that smile. He looks like a bollywood star.”

This brought even more attention on them and for 15 minutes Raza From London became a chief attraction.

The onslaught of interest was further piqued when everyone noticed his sister standing behind him. She had intense kohled eyes in which she didn’t bother to hide much. She didn’t shyly avert her gaze at anybody, but directly met their inquiring glances with a mixture of amusement and mischief. Her hair hung loose and her face was framed by playful jhumkas. She was dressed in a beautiful purple outfit and more than a few leers passed at the way it hugged her curves.

But Kuhu didn’t know nor care for any such attention. Despite her week-long protests at being forced to join her brother for the wedding, she actually was excited and it showed plainly on her face. She smiled animatedly, greeted and hugged everyone as if they were long lost friends, and exchanged witty remarks. Raza had no doubt that his sister was going to become the life of the party before the day ended.

“Maybe you’ll find someone here too,” he muttered as he rubbed his sore cheeks.

She snorted loudly. “Bhaiya, bride hunting at weddings is more your scene. Please spare me.”

Her voice rung like bells and more than a few heads turned at the sound. Not before long, she was dragged towards the main stage where the bride sat for her mehndi and a group of females whose ages ranged from eight to eighty surrounded her. Kuhu sat among them, and immediately following a brief round of introductions, she launched into a rendition of _Kajra Mohabbat Wala_.

Songs followed one after another and by the time _High Rated Gabru_ rolled around, the women were dancing. That Kuhu was more than adept at shaking a leg became apparent to everyone and they clapped and cheered at her. The girls quickly fell into formation with her in the middle. At the end of the seventh or eighth song, Kuhu paused for a bit of a breather and she noticed two little girls doing the bhangra. She knelt beside them with her phone.

“I’m taking a selfie! Come on, dance pose!” She smiled at her camera with the girls posing behind her.

Her thumb had almost successfully taken the picture when she felt someone bump into her from behind, causing her phone to slip from her hands and fall onto the grass.

“Oye! Watch it!”

“I’m so sorry.”

Kuhu felt her anger disappear almost as instantly as it had risen when she heard a gentle feminine voice apologize to her.

“Oh God, I hope I didn’t break it.” Kuhu stared almost transfixed as a young woman picked up her phone to examine it. She was tall and Kuhu’s neck was leaned all the way back to get a full look. Her gaze traveled from the slender fingers holding the phone to the face frowning intently at it - she took a few seconds to admire the features - and then to the eyes that were glistening with… was it tears?

“Looks okay to me. But please check. I’m really sorry.” The girl turned to Kuhu holding out her phone to her. Maybe it was Kuhu’s sudden onset of brain malfunction, but she thought she saw the other girl’s breath hitch a little.

“Uh, I’m sure it’s fine.” And Kuhu smiled. And the girl smiled too. And Kuhu was sure they would have continued smiling like idiots, one standing, one on her knee, for hours if they hadn’t been interrupted by an aunty who tried to pull Kuhu back into the dance. By the time she managed to extricate herself, the girl was gone.

“Kuhu, come on, it’s dance rehearsal time.” She felt herself being dragged, while she scanned the crowd for any sign of a tall girl in a pink kameez and yellow chunni. For a moment, Kuhu did wonder if the sensory overload of heat and noise and smell had caused her to hallucinate a beautiful woman.

The main stage was now taken over by an elderly woman who the bride had called “beeji” while touching her feet. Kuhu wasn’t sure if the woman was actually the bride’s grandmother, but whoever she was, she was important and commanded respect. When she called someone to join in, they promptly walked over and sat by her feet. Earlier, she had laid an affectionate hand on Kuhu’s head and said she was a “ _soni puttar_ ” (beautiful child).

“Come over. You, come over. You too.”

Kuhu went and sat beside Madhu aunty who had been playing the harmonium the whole time, while facing Madhu aunty’s hilarious sister, Shashi aunty who had turned everyone’s faces red all morning with her innuendo-filled jokes.

“Sweety, you come over too.”

Kuhu casually glanced at who Beeji was calling and her heart flipped. It was the girl from before. She noticed Kuhu too and quickly lowered her eyes with a shy smile.

“Hey, I need your help.” It was Raza.

“Hmm?” She murmured distractedly.

“I need you to go and talk to that girl for me. If you could, you know, do your thing, break the ice for me a bit.”

“Which girl?”

“The one there. The tall, pretty one. Sitting by herself. Her name’s Sweety Chaudhury.”

Kuhu got whiplash she turned her head to look at her brother so fast. “What?”

“She’s the groom’s cousin. I think buaji is talking to her family about me,” Raza gave a sheepish smile. “I met her father just now. They seem nice. She seems really lovely, but a little shy. I don’t know how to approach her. Can you help?”

Kuhu’s feelings must have been apparent on her face because her brother leaned closer, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Kuhu took a deep breath, “Of course I’ll talk to her. We both know you’re useless.”

Raza grinned, “Thanks bro.”

“You owe me big time, bro.”

The music had started, the singing had started. Kuhu sighed shaking off her feelings. _Oh well_. And she joined everyone. Beeji and Shashi Aunty had begun singing and teasing Sweety, and Kuhu joined in that too. She could swear that Sweety blushed a little when she whistled at her, but then she remembered Raza.

When she got up to dance with Shashi Aunty, their scarves tied around their head, Kuhu kept looking at Sweety from the corner of her eyes. Everytime she twirled, everytime she moved her head to the thumkas, it gave Kuhu an opportunity to glance in Sweety’s direction. And everytime Sweety thought Kuhu was looking her way, she turned pink. Kuhu’s spidey senses were tingling, but then she remembered Raza.

The rehearsal started and stopped several times as people got more and more into the fun of it and less into the organization of it. Steps went wrong, someone stepped on someone else, someone crashed into a row of chairs. From one end, a round of gossip began that spread like wildfire and very soon everyone came to know that a certain Lalwani family had gone bankrupt and owed the government $20 million. From the other end, another piece of news about a certain Naina Ahluwalia eloping with a boy from the Chamar caste also spread quickly. In the chaos and noise of it all, Kuhu found Sweety sitting by a corner applying mehndi on the hands of the little ones.

Kuhu took a minute to just observe the woman who seemed to have a way with kids, asking for their opinions, talking with them instead of to them. All the while she drew intricate green designs on tiny palms. As if having a sense that she was being watched, Sweety looked up and Kuhu froze at being caught red-handed. They both blushed and looked away. Kuhu remembered her brother.

“Wow, so pretty.” She plopped right beside the girl. “Sweety, right? Hi, I’m Kuhu. Um, actually, my brother, Raza, is very interested in you.” She dove right into it without preamble, as much for her sake as her brother’s.

Sweety who had been smiling really wide suddenly looked less cheery. “Uh…”

“He’s an MBA. He works in London.”

“Actually…”

“ _Arrey yaar, suno toh sahi_. (Come on, hear me out) Point one, Raza is intelligent, makes a lot of money. Point two, he’s really handsome, as you can see.” Kuhu chuckled.

Except Sweety didn’t even look in Raza’s direction. She kept staring intently at Kuhu, leading Kuhu to wage a quiet struggle with herself.

“Actually, next month even I’m going to London to study.” She tested the water a bit. She could have said that she was a unicorn with three heads who tap danced for a living and it wouldn’t have made a difference. Sweety wasn’t really listening to her. The girl just seemed lost in the company and the voice of Kuhu’s, not really paying any attention to the words, and Kuhu felt a stir rising within herself that she was finding hard to control. Part of the reason why the next few words came tumbling out of her mouth.

“Can I tell you something? In school or college, whenever I had a crush on a girl…”

At that, a shadow passed over the serenity with which Sweety had been admiring Kuhu and the girl swallowed hard. She looked scared, uncertain.

“Yes. Crush on a girl.” Perhaps it was the sincerity in Kuhu’s eyes, perhaps it was the fact that even Sweety wasn’t utterly oblivious when someone was attracted to her, but the fear subsided. The uncertainty, however, remained.

“You’ve had crushes on girls?” Sweety asked softly.

Kuhu grinned, “And some of them have had crushes on me.” She leaned closer to Sweety, “I’m sure a lot have had crushes on you too.”

Sweety looked down, “No.”

“Oh please! You don’t have to be so modest.”

“I’m not.”

“Which part of Delhi has so many blind people?”

“Moga. I’m from Moga. And actually, boys have crushes on me. But never girls.”

“Hmm. So, that means you were always the first one to approach your girlfriends, huh?” Kuhu teased.

Suddenly, Sweety stood up, her face ashen, her mouth agape in terror.

“What’s wrong?” Kuhu asked worried.

“I have to go.”

“But what hap-”

“I’m sorry… I can’t.” And Sweety all but ran away, leaving behind a very bewildered Kuhu.

\------------


	2. Chapter 2

Kuhu had a ten-second delay as she tried to process the sudden turn of events before she jumped onto her feet and chased in the direction where Sweety had run off. The crowd had thickened, the day was ending and the alcohol had started flowing. People were dancing, talking, moving a little too freely, and Kuhu found it hard to navigate. But she persisted and kept her gaze fixed on the target. Sweety was less inclined to be rude and push aggressively past her way through the crowd, while Kuhu wasn’t, so by the time Sweety reached the end of the lawn and had stepped inside the hotel interior, Kuhu had caught up to her.

Panting Kuhu tapped Sweety from behind. The latter turned around with some panic, then seemed relieved, but then furrowed her brow with guilt. Kuhu watched the whole process with some interest.

As if on cue, the speakers started blaring a classic song about the legendary Ranjha chasing after his Heer remixed for modern times with disco beats. The girls burst out laughing at the same time. 

“I draw the line at shaving my head and wandering the countryside for you,” Kuhu smirked.

Sweety blushed, “I wouldn’t want you to. I really like your hair.”

Kuhu arched her eyebrow at this unexpected line of flirtation from the girl, and while she wouldn’t care to admit it to anyone yet, her heart was thudding too fast and not just from the running.

She cleared her throat. “So, um, what did I say to scare you back there?”

Sweety bit her lip. “I’m not sure I can explain.”

Kuhu leaned against a pillar. They had left behind most of the noise and glare of the mehndi party. Only the bass of the speakers punctuated the silence at regular intervals. A low wattage bulb hung over them, and in its subdued glow, to her Sweety looked like something out of an 18th Century painting. Or maybe it was them that were in a different time, in a different place altogether. 

“I met your brother earlier,” Sweety said, breaking the spell.

Kuhu closed her eyes, “That. I’m so sorry. Don’t worry about it. I’ll talk to him. He’ll back off.”

“What will you say?”

“That you are…”

“No.” Sweety grabbed Kuhu’s arm roughly. “Please don’t tell him…”

“That you are gay?”

Sweety pulled back her hand and as if struck by lightning her entire body stiffened. Kuhu quickly moved to reassure her. “It’s okay. Bhai knows about me. He is cool.”

“Please... don’t.”

Kuhu frowned, “If I don’t tell him, they’re going to go ahead with the  _ rishta _ . And it’s not what you want.” A dreadful thought suddenly occurred to her. “Right?” It occurred to her that Sweety might succumb, just like so many closeted people that she knew, to a marriage of convenience. Which in and of itself would be tragic, but the thought of Sweety marrying Raza made Kuhu’s insides churn.  

“No, of course not! But I’ll make up some other excuse. I’ll say something. But please, just don’t tell him or anyone anything.”

Kuhu narrowed her eyes. “He likes you. I don’t want him to get hurt.”

“I won’t lead him on, I promise. I’ll say something tomorrow.”

Kuhu felt her heart weigh down with a complex mix of emotions. There had been something building here, something she hadn’t expected, something she hadn’t experienced in a long time. And there was a part of her that didn’t want to let go of that momentum. Sweety was drawing her in, and the flame of attraction had been lit both ends she could tell. She had been feeling its warmth grow within her.

But there was the other part of her, the part that was rational, that had principles, that had strong feelings regarding said principles. The part that had been burned before. The layers of dishonesty that Sweety had so tightly wrapped around herself like a comfortable blanket was both familiar and distasteful. And like a deflating balloon, Kuhu could feel that initial adoration ebb. When she spoke next, it came out harsher than she intended.

“Fine. I won’t tell anybody as long as you nip this rishta in the bud.” She turned to leave. “I should go find my brother.” She hoped, not consciously but she did nevertheless, that Sweety would stop her, apologize, take back what she said. Nothing happened. And as Kuhu walked away from the darkness back into the dancing, drinking, laughing crowd, she resolved to put the girl out of her mind. 

\---

That proved much more difficult than she had anticipated. She didn’t see Sweety again that evening, not even at dinner. Raza had sidled up next to her with a tray of food and asked the inevitable question. Kuhu told him she didn’t think Sweety was interested. When he asked her to elaborate, she snapped at him, which she regretted, which put her in an even grumpier mood. The bride and her friends invited her to drinks, but she politely excused herself feigning a headache, and went back home. 

She paced in her room for hours later. She told herself she was trying to memorize all the details of the mehndi, things that could be useful for her master’s thesis, but her mind kept switching to Sweety and it infuriated her. She tried calling up her best friend whose brusque and forthright manner she valued. The conversation went pretty much along the lines of, “The girl’s from a small town conservative family and she’s so deep in the closet you would need to pull out ten yards of kurti before finding her. Stay away.”

Which was pretty much what Kuhu knew, understood, and wanted to do. But she found herself opening her Facebook app and typing “Sweety Chaudhury” in the search box. She scrolled through the results until she found the profile she was looking for. “Sweety Chaudhury, Moga, Punjab. DM College, Moga.” Beside it was a picture, not of a person, but a silhouette. The arms and legs were wrapped around each other, the posture was bent into itself, the head was sunk low. 

She rubbed her temple. She was now genuinely getting a headache.


	3. Chapter 3

_Mukkaalaa Mukaablaa Laila Oh laila_  
_Mukaablaa Sokkamalaa Laila Oh Laila_

Kuhu felt like she had only just fallen into a restless sleep when she was awakened by her WhatsApp blaring a popular Tamil song. She grabbed her phone and received the call without even looking at who it was.

“Mmfello?”

“Hello _betaaaa_?”

“Mom,” Kuhu groaned.

“Are you still sleeping?”

“Mom, it's early here.”

“But your father said it's 9 am there. _Aapne kaha kitne bajey hain waha_? (What time did you say it was there?)”

Kuhu's eyes popped open. She checked her phone. 9 am indeed. Shit. She had overslept.

“Did the party go on too late?”

“Kinda.”

“Nirmala sent me snaps. Looked really fun.”

“Yeah?”

“Did you have fun?”

“It was okay.” Kuhu pinched her forehead with her fingers. She wasn't really in the mood to talk about the party, the wedding, or anything remotely related to it.

“Beta, _sab changa_? (Everything well?)”

“Yah, everything's fine. Tell me how are you enjoying London?”

“Your father and I went to watch a play last night. Very close to your college campus. It was very interesting. Do you know what intersectional feminism is?”

“Yes, mom, I do.”

“I had heard of feminism, but never intersectional feminism. It was so fascinating. You know, after the play, they had a discussion about how when women's rights movement started in the West, they only cared about Caucasian middle class women. And also only straight women.”

Kuhu leaned into her pillows and smiled as her mother proceeded to describe everything about intersectional feminism she had learned from the play. She heard her father puttering about in the background and she could just imagine the look of amusement on his face. By the time she went down for breakfast, she was in a considerably improved mood.

“Good morning,” she greeted cheerfully.

Raza looked up from his iPad. “I see you are no longer upset by whatever that was upsetting you yesterday.”

“Mom was giving me a lesson on intersectional feminism.” Kuhu helped herself to some diced fruits.

“I know. She called me before you. I think she quoted Audre Lorde at one point in our conversation.”

“She just kept telling me how supportive and proud she was of me. I’m not sure if I should be worried for her.”

Raza chuckled, “She’s trying.”

“I think it is encoded in our DNA to be embarrassed of our parents no matter what they do.” Kuhu bit into a piece of guava. “So, you talked to mom, huh? Did you ask her to cheer me up?”

“Well, you are pretty unbearable when you are in one of your moods.” He dodged the napkin his sister threw at him. “So, you want to talk about what got you so upset about last night that you wanted to bite my head off?”

“I think this whole arranged marriage thing is a terrible idea.”

“Yes, you’ve made your feelings about the subject matter very clear several times.”

Kuhu stabbed the air with her fork, “I don't get it. Mom doesn't want you to have an arranged marriage. Dad doesn't. I sure as hell don't. You could meet girls and go on dates and get to know them like normal folks instead you want to be set up by people who don't know the first thing about you or what you like.”

“I never said I want one. I just said I’m open to it.” he argued. “Besides, you’re avoiding the topic. You couldn’t have been so upset about this.” When there was no information forthcoming, he continued, “I talked to Sweety last night, by the way.”

“Oh?” Kuhu feigned disinterest.

“Did you know she's a very good artist?”

“Not really.”

“She says she wants to study art, pursue it seriously. I told her London has some of the top visual arts schools in the world.”

“What did she say?”

“She told me she had been doing her research and London was her top three options. She would love to go to London to study.”

Kuhu dropped her fork into the bowl with a noisy clatter, making Raza jump a little. She was fuming. So much for not leading him on.

Hours later when she saw Sweety at the rehearsal, all by herself at the poolside, busy sketching on a pad, she told herself the reason for her heart beating fast was anger and nothing else. She was debating whether she should walk up there and give her a piece of her mind when one of the bride’s friends came up to her and grabbed her hand and said hi. Kuhu had struck up a small flirtation with this girl the previous day. This was before she had met Sweety and everything else had been wiped off her mind. She glanced towards Sweety who was still engrossed in sketching. For some reason that made her even angrier because it reminded her that Raza knew about Sweety’s passion for art and she didn’t.

So, she grabbed the hand this girl was offering. She couldn’t remember her name, didn’t care to, just that she was quite cute and flirting with her and didn’t seem like she was going to be the cause of any headaches or sleepless nights.

After a particularly rigorous dance session, Kuhu went to help herself to some punch. That and she needed a break from the girl from earlier whose flirtation had turned aggressive and was dancing and moving a little too close for comfort. Not that Kuhu wouldn’t normally enjoy the attention.

She poured herself two glasses of punch. Sipping one, she turned around and almost collided with someone. It was Sweety. Her drink went down the wrong pipe and she sputtered.

“Oh my god, are you okay?”

Sweety gently patted her on the back. It made things worse and Kuhu was seized by a coughing fit. When she finally calmed down, she said, “We got to stop meeting like this.”

“I agree,” Sweety gave a chuckle, and then softly, “Hi again.”

Sweety’s smile was so sincere, so bright, that Kuhu almost forgot everything else. Almost. “Drink?” She mumbled, offering the other, untouched cup in her hand.

“No, thanks.” Sweety scratched her neck in nervousness. “So, um, hi.” She repeated and closed her eyes shut as if embarrassed at herself.

Kuhu took a deep breath. She wasn’t in the mood for small talk. “Bhai told me he and you had a talk last night.”

“What? Oh, uh, yeah?”

“I thought we had an agreement.”

“I...”

“But you told him you want to continue your studies in London?”

“Uh, yes, but…”

“Look, I know you want to hide who you are and live in fear and get married to some guy because it’s easier than facing yourself.”

“Whoa, hold on...”

“And that's your decision, but I'm not going to let you use my brother like that.”

“I don’t know what Raza told you…”

“He's a good guy and I love him and I'll be damned if you're going to make him a part of your deception.”

“... but I refused him last night.”

“And I'm going to tell him everything if you don't, so... what… you... what?”

“And he said he understood.”

Kuhu was dumbstruck.

“Did he not tell you?”

She opened and closed her mouth several times as her brain worked in overdrive. She replayed the breakfast conversation, but this time without the assumption that she had made earlier. She suddenly remembered how closely Raza had been observing her, how he hadn’t given her details but had provoked her reactions. Damn him.

“Last night Valli chachu had invited him home. As soon as we got a little time alone, I told him I couldn’t marry him. He actually didn’t ask very many questions. He just said he understood and supported me.” Sweety dropped her gaze, “You left so upset.”

“I wasn’t… I mean, yes, but not... It wasn't like... I didn't...” Kuhu wanted to slap herself for losing the ability to form coherent sentences at this crucial moment. She paused for breath and started again, “I think I owe you an apology. I shouldn't have those things to you just now.”

“It's okay.”

“No, it's not okay. I am really sorry.” Kuhu leaned forward and touched Sweety's hand lightly. She half expected Sweety to flinch, but she didn't. They stood there like that for a few minutes until Sweety shyly withdrew her hand.

“You are looking very pretty today,” Kuhu said after a while. She felt major satisfaction at the way Sweety’s face turned pink.

“You are just being polite.”

“No, you duffer,” Kuhu rolled her eyes. “Do you even realize the effect you have on people?”

The flush deepened. “You are looking beautiful too. Yellow really suits you.”

“So, purple didn’t yesterday?” Kuhu hid her giddiness with a joke.

“No, no. You were so gorgeous in purple too.” Sweety bit her lip. “I couldn’t sleep at all last night. I kept thinking about you, seeing you.”

“I don’t think I slept much either.”

“Really? Because you were upset with me?”

“No.” Kuhu took two steps forward. “Because I wanted to talk to you again, but I didn’t know if you wanted to. Because I couldn’t wait to see you again, but I was afraid of how you would react when I do. Because I imagined coming this close to you the whole night and it was driving me crazy.” The last sentence was delivered in a hoarse whisper. She saw Sweety tremble slightly.

They both jumped when they heard someone clear their throat near them. Kuhu turned around to find her brother who was wearing a very calm expression. “Uh, sorry to interrupt, but everyone’s looking for the two of you and they were coming this way, sooo…”

Kuhu went up to him and punched him on his arm. “You monster.”

“You’ve met my sister,” Raza addressed Sweety. “She’s a handful and more than a little crazy. Don’t say I didn’t warn you. Oh, thank you.” He grabbed both the drinks that had now gone forgotten in his sister’s hands, and gulped them down.

“Don’t listen to him.” Another fist landed on his bicep. Sweety watched the siblings with such wonder that she kept quiet as they continued their banter. Kuhu misunderstood her silence. Later, as the three of them of them made their way towards the main stage where everyone had gathered to rehearse, she asked Sweety if she was worried that Raza knew about her.

“No, I’m just surprised how you are with him,” Sweety replied. “I’ve never joked around with Babloo virji.”

“Oh, bhai is a lamb. He gets bossed around by all the women in the family, me, mom, dadi, buaji. Pretty sure it’ll be his wife next.” Kuhu glared at Sweety. “Don’t you be getting any ideas.”

Sweety shook her head so innocently that Kuhu burst out laughing.


	4. Chapter 4

_Haaye photo teri khinch khinch rakhda ni_   
_Maarega ishara teri ankh da ni_

 

Kuhu stepped right in sync with the dancers. Sweety stayed behind, until Raza came up and asked her to join them.

“No, no, I’m okay. Really.”

“Do me a favor. I need a partner and I’d rather it not be my sister because she loves to step on my shoes. I’m not even sure she does it by accident. So, please?”

Sweety took his offered hand and they lined up next to Kuhu and her partner. When Kuhu saw them, she arched an eyebrow to which Raza made a dismissive hand motion.

“What do you say?” he turned to Sweety. “Let’s show my sister how it’s really done.”

Sweety smiled and got into the tempo, matching steps with steps. At one point she was dancing next to Kuhu with the men flanking them on both sides. Everytime she moved, she would brush against Kuhu, who was sporting a devilish grin and a naughty twinkle in her eye. That grin got impossibly wider when Sweety, so engrossed in the dance, didn’t hear the call to break and kept continuing with the steps.

_Pichhe pichhe kyun hai ghoomda_

Sweety rocked to the beats and twisted her hands in a throwing motion, when suddenly she realized that she was the only dancing and everyone was staring at her.

Kuhu thought her heart would melt, first at the carefree expression on Sweety’s face, and then at her deep red embarrassment. Later, when they managed to snatch some alone time together, as the group had dispersed to chat or grab something to eat, Kuhu would tease her about it.

“I haven’t felt this happy in a long time,” Sweety panted. They had been running away from the group towards the solitude of the poolside, and Kuhu had offered her hand, which Sweety had taken eagerly. Normally Sweety would have been terrified at even being this close to another girl, let alone hold hands with her so publicly, but like she said - she was happy.

“I’m glad,” Kuhu said. She collapsed on a lounge chair by the poolside, and gently tugged Sweety’s hand so she sat next to her, which Sweety did. Kuhu shifted closer so their arms were touching each other and by the look on Sweety’s face she knew she had done the right thing.

“Do your parents know? About you, I mean?” Sweety asked.

Kuhu nodded.

“And they are...okay?”

“Well, my parents didn’t exactly have the most conventional marriage either. Dad’s a Punjabi Hindu who married a Tamil Muslim.” At Sweety’s involuntary gasp, Kuhu laughed. “Yeah.”

“So, are you Muslim? Not that it matters.” Sweety quickly added. “I’m not against any religion.”

“Dad and mom always told us that it should be our choice which god we follow, if we follow any god at all. But like everything in life, we are strongly influenced by what we hear and see and experience as kids. You see, my dadi was furious when my dad married my mom, so my mom spent her whole life trying to fit into my dad’s Punjabi family. So much so that we ended up knowing more about our Punjabi and Hindu side than the Tamil and Muslim side. It’s only now that I’m getting in touch with my mom’s side of my heritage.”

“Your mom must feel nice that you are taking an interest in her side.”

“Yeah, but at the same time I think because of my dad’s family and my dadi, mom always carries a slight bit of complex about it. My dad has reassured her about a million times, and so have Raza and I, that them being totally different cultures isn’t a negative for us kids. It’s more of a positive really. But…” Kuhu paused, choosing her words, “I also think that’s what made my mom have the hardest time when I came out to them. For my dad it wasn’t a big deal, and Raza was like, ‘Bro, I’ve always known’” Kuhu rolled her eyes. “But my mom, she blamed herself. She thought I was having a sexual confusion because of my cultural confusion.”

“So, how did she come around?”

“I don’t know actually. I assume my dad and brother had a talk with her. But now she’s my biggest supporter. She went on Facebook and started Delhi’s first organization for parents with gay children. So far there’s a total of five members in there, but she’s not discouraged,” Kuhu laughed.

Sweety looked thoughtful. “It’s unimaginable to me how accepting your family is.”

“Have you tried telling them?” Kuhu asked carefully. “I mean, I’ve met your dad. I can tell he adores you. Parents can surprise you sometimes.”

“Virji knows.”

“Oh? And?”

“If he finds out about you and me… us… this…”

Sweety’s entire demeanor had changed. The laughing, carefree girl was gone and had been replaced by someone who looked so small, so scared, so exhausted. Kuhu was reminded of the profile photo on Sweety’s Facebook.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Kuhu said, not knowing what else to say. She had met Sweety’s brother briefly and she hadn’t liked the way he had bossed over her. Those few seconds of interaction had been enough to give her a good understanding of where Sweety’s repression and fear were coming from.

Sweety shook her head, “Let’s talk something else.”

Kuhu asked about Sweety’s plans for art school, and gradually the girl’s mood improved. Within 20 minutes, Sweety was back to laughing and blushing, especially when Kuhu suggested they exchange phone numbers.

“I was afraid you wouldn’t ask.”

“Do you know how long I stared at your Facebook profile last night debating whether I should add you or not?”

“Not as long as I did.”

“And this is the song I was listening to while doing the staring.”

Kuhu went on YouTube and started playing a video.

 _Mujhe neend na aaye mujhe chain na aaye_  
 _Koi jaaye zara dhoondh ke laaye_  
 _Na jaane kahan dil kho gaya_  
 _Na jaane kahan dil kho gaya_  
(I can’t sleep, I can’t rest  
Someone please go and find out  
Where my heart’s gone?  
Where my heart’s gone?)

Sweety laughed. “This song is older than you.”

“I know, but I like it.”

“Me too. You know, I was sketching you last night.”

Kuhu couldn’t hide her excitement. “Really? My god, we’re massive idiots. Would have been easier just to add each other, no?”

“But where would the fun be in that? _Haalat kya hain kaise tujhe bataoo main, karvat badal badal ke raat bitaoo main_ (What do I tell you of my condition? My nights are spent tossing and turning here) This is where the feel is.”

“It sure is,” Kuhu coughed, masking the moan that almost slipped out of her lips. She wasn’t sure if it was because of Sweety’s singing or the way she stressed on “feel”. Thankfully for her, Sweety asked for a selfie, which turned into two, which turned into several. Their faces got crazier and sillier each subsequent selfie. When Sweety showed the pictures in her gallery, they convulsed into laughter.

Not too distant, Babloo Chaudhury stood watching them.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm baaaaaack! Sorry it took so long. Will try to post at a more regular pace from now on. Thanks for reading. And remember, feedback is always good :)

That night Sweety went back to her room so energized one wouldn't have guessed she had spent the entire day practicing dance steps under the sun. Every cell in her brain was fired up and seemed to be ignoring how sore and weary her body must be. Her heart was racing with excitement, which was new for her. She couldn't stop smiling as she lost herself in a rush of images, some of the things that had happened, some of the things she had wanted to happen.

Her phone dinged and flashed once. Then a few more times. Sweety's smile went impossibly wider when she saw the name of who she hoped it was.

 _Kuhu._ She tried saying the name out loud and then felt herself flush at the way it sounded coming out of her lips.

“Hey _so gayi kya_?” (Hey, are you asleep?)

“No I was just getting my clothes ready for tomorrow.” _And thinking about you, but I don’t want to weird you out by saying that._

Sweety lost herself in their subsequent exchange of messages. She could hear Kuhu’s sultry voice and her trademark snark in the tone of the messages. At one point, Kuhu mimicked the wedding planner, a graduate from the University of Texas, a fact he never stopped mentioning every other line, and with a penchant for dropping “y’all”s and “fixin’ to”s everywhere. Sweety laughed so hard at Kuhu’s parody of him that she almost fell off the bed.

“Omg u almost killed me”

“With my deadly charm?” Which earned her a rolling eyes emoji from Sweety.

Just then a loud knock came on the door. Hurriedly excusing herself from Kuhu and putting her phone away, Sweet walked up to open her door. In an instant all her giddiness had coiled into a knot of fear on seeing her brother.

“Virji?”

He tried to peer past her shoulder. “Are you alone?”

“Uh, virji, yeah. Who else would be here?”

He turned to glare at her. “I heard you talking to someone and laughing.”

Sweety quickly looked down. “No, virji, I was just on WhatsApp with my friend.”

“And which friend is that?” When Sweety didn’t immediately answer, he stepped into the room, causing her to move away. “Is it this friend that you met at the wedding? What’s her name… Kuhu, isn’t it?”

Sweety’s stomach dropped. _He knew_. It shouldn’t really surprise her because he always knew.

“I don’t like you talking to her. She doesn’t seem like a good influence.”

“She is really nice, virji,” Sweety managed meekly.

“She is a _Muslim_. Earlier they were thinking of fixing your marriage with her brother. When I found out they were Muslims, I immediately told bauji. Are they out of their minds?”

What Sweety wanted to say was “It doesn’t matter what religion they are” but instead she said, “She’s not Muslim, virji. They are Hindus.”

“You stay away from her, do you understand?”

“Virji, you can’t tell me how to choose my friends!”

He was momentarily shocked by her uncharacteristic retaliation, but quickly came back even more hostile than before. “Don’t take me for a fool. Don’t think for a minute I don’t know what’s going on here. You be very careful.” And with those last menacing words, he left.

After he left the room, Sweety curled up on the bed replaying his words. He must have seen her with Kuhu and figured out what was going on. That was the only explanation of why he had come barging into her room like that. She suddenly wondered if she had been reckless in her behaviour. It was unlike her to not be conscious of how she was being perceived by others. She could in fact be quite neurotic about it. But never once during the whole day had she stopped to wonder what other people were seeing. She had been so captivated by Kuhu’s presence and so exhilarated just being around her that she hadn’t thought of anything else. Now she was wondering if she should have been more careful and was agonized that she hadn’t been.

Her phone dinged, flashing Kuhu’s name.

Sweety scrolled up to see the rows of messages the girl had left. She bit her lip as she typed, “Hey, I’m a bit sleepy. See u tmr?” She was lying and she hated it, but seeing virji just then had sucked all her bliss away and only left her with this heavy weight of gloom that  she didn’t want to transfer onto Kuhu.

Kuhu gave her a cheery “Arrey yaar no problem. I talk too much anyway. Ofc see you tomorrow. Can’t wait :D”

Sweety lay awake in bed for a long time thinking. She was fixated with figuring out at what point would Babloo virji have caught them and suspected. They hadn’t done anything out of the ordinary. They hadn’t even really properly hugged. The most they did was hold hands, but friends did that all the time. She wondered how she was looking at Kuhu. Whether her smiles were too obvious, whether her gazes were too shy, whether her touch on Kuhu’s arm lingered a bit too long. With a stab of fear, she wondered if her father or biji had noticed. Suddenly, it felt like to her everyone present would have noticed. How could they not? She had been so happy around Kuhu, she had forgotten herself. It must have been obvious, she realized. It’s why everyone’s demeanor was so odd towards her all evening. It’s what so-and-so _really_ meant by that remark. It’s why Valli chachu was acting so aloof. It’s why… it’s why…

Finally, after hours of picking and prying the events of the day apart for any mistakes, at some hour before dawn, Sweety succumbed exhausted to sleep.

——

That morning Sweety woke up with a heavy heart, both from the little sleep she had had and by the paranoia that had gripped her last night. She finally went down for breakfast wary and extremely self-conscious. She was quieter than usual and was hyperaware of how everyone was treating her. For the most part, there didn’t seem to be any indication that anything was wrong. Babloo himself was back to his usual boisterous, aggrandizing self with everyone, boasting about this latest business venture that he and his friends were going to start. This led to Valli chachu recalling a funny childhood incident that involved Babloo running around pantless with his face caked with soap.

The more irritated Babloo got with the story, the more he protested that it wasn’t how it really happened, the harder everyone laughed. Very soon, despite the earlier sombreness that Sweety had woken up with, she found herself joining in the fun.

Sweety remembered her childhood being like this, full of laughter and merciless teasing. She even remembered playing pranks on Babloo as a child. He always took himself so seriously that it made him an easy target for everyone’s jokes. Very early on she had found a way to torment her brother and get away with it. If Babloo would chase after her to beat her up because she had left a plastic lizard inside his lunchbox, all she had to do was run to her father who she knew would shield her from her brother’s wrath. She did have the good sense to never play any pranks when it was only Biji around in whose eyes Babloo never did anything wrong.

Regardless of the clear lines of favouritism, Sweety could not remember a single dark moment as a kid. So often she would be at the receiving end of sympathy from family and acquaintances for being a “motherless child” but if she was honest she had never felt the sense of deprivation that she was supposed to feel. She didn't remember her mother, being only a couple of years old when she passed, and she had never lacked for love in the house. Indeed, she couldn't remember not being loved growing up.

She was pulled back to the present when Babloo was gesturing at her. “Why are all the childhood stories about me? What about Sweety?”

Valli laughed, “Babloo puttar, what stories? Sweety has always been such an angel.”

“An angel my foot. I know all of her secrets. Should I tell?”

Balbir Chaudhary snorted, “Oh, I need to hear this!” tickled amused at the idea that there were mischievous moments of his favorite child that he might have missed.

Sweety’s expression fell when she noticed Babloo staring at her seriously. Not a trace of humoron his face. “Virji,” she stammered, “We are only teasing you. It’s nothing.”

“She is not as innocent as she looks,” he announced to everyone.

There was a noticeable chill in the air now as everyone looked at each other confused.

“She… she…” Babloo gritted his teeth. “She was the one who had turned off the hot water tank when I was showering. That’s why I had to come out of the bathroom without clothes.”

A burst of laughter erupted in tandem and Madhu chachi slapped Sweety on her back, impressed. The atmosphere had once again lightened. Even Babloo was now laughing and talking animatedly. Sweety smiled too, but it was forced. That moment of temporary levity was gone. It is strange, she found herself thinking, that it takes so much effort for joy to break through the barriers of misery. And once broken, it is too amorphous and weak to guard the moment. Even the slightest threat can switch it off and render it inaccessible again.

—

Inaccessible it did remain for a few more hours until she got to see Kuhu again. Valli chachu had invited all the intimate friends and family of the bride and groom for lunch at the hotel’s dining lounge. Sweety had been sitting on one end of the table, detached from the conversations happening around her, when she felt a tap on her shoulder.

“Hey, thinking about me?” Kuhu teased.

Sweety scoffed, “Not at all. What gave you that idea?”

Kuhu put on a mock sad face. “Then I’ll just go and sit with one of the bride’s pretty cousins since I’m not wanted here.”

“You probably should,” Sweety said, not entirely joking.

“Yeah, but I don’t wanna! Ooh yum.” Kuhu began piling her plate with food.

Sweety gasped, “Are you going to eat all of that?”

“I didn’t have breakfast.”

“Are you one of those people who doesn’t eat at home so they can make the make the most out of wedding food?” At Kuhu’s blush, Sweety burst out laughing. “Okay, so you can be _as_ cheap as the rest of us.”

“Only when it comes to food,” Kuhu muttered.

“Uh huh.”

The restaurant had been filling up with people and someone or the other would come by, and begin chatting with them. Sweety felt a bit disappointed at not being able to spend alone time with Kuhu, but she didn’t want to be rude. However, as soon as they finally got a brief reprieve from the endless line of people walking up to them, Kuhu huffed impatiently. “I feel like I barely got to say hi to you.”

Sweety pointed at Kuhu’s untouched plate. “And you barely got to eat.”

“Yeah,” Kuhu made a face and plopped her plate on the table. “I’m now going to enjoy my food. If anyone comes this way and interrupts me, the plate is landing on their head.”

Sweety laughed, “No, it isn’t, but I’ll shoo them away, okay?”

Kuhu nodded in appreciation. They ate in silence for a bit. Sweety found herself, a bit to her embarrassment later, observing the way Kuhu ate too closely. Kuhu was clearly enjoying her meal and _clearly_ hungry, but she managed to make even stuffing her face kind of cute. When Kuhu caught her looking at her, she winced. She waited until she swallowed the huge mouthful she'd taken and said, “Am I making a mess?”

“A little,” Sweety laughed. “Wait, let me?” She took a napkin and wiped Kuhu’s right cheek that had a smear of gravy on it. It was supposed to be a casual gesture, but as soon as her finger brushed against Kuhu’s skin, she felt warm tingles shoot through her hand and down her spine. And to make matters worse, Kuhu  decided at that moment to lift her own fingers and gently clasp Sweety’s in them. A hundred contradictory thoughts rushed through Sweety’s mind at that moment. That this was a really intimate, even if innocent, gesture that they were making in public. That if Babloo saw them he would begin raising hell. That Sweety had spent an entire night resolute about avoiding exactly such a situation. That even if her heart was thudding with fear, she couldn’t - didn’t want to - remove her hand. That she had never done this with anyone before and the utter loveliness of the moment was making her grin despite herself.

Kuhu curled her fingers tighter around Sweety’s and then brought their joined hands together on the table. Sweety lowered her gaze and slowly and reluctantly removed her hand. When she looked up to see if Kuhu was upset, she was relieved to find she wasn’t. But the girl did seem a bit lost in thought. Kuhu finally asked, “Did you ever dream of having something like this, you know, a typical big fat Indian wedding?”

“Yeah. You?”

“Even before I realized I was gay, I just couldn’t imagine being happy on a day I was getting married to some guy. And after I realized I was gay, well… there was no point.”

Sweety smiled. “I fantasized a wedding like this, but with another woman.”

Kuhu’s eyebrows shot up almost to her hairline, “Really? How did that work? Tell me about it.”

“It was a fantasy, okay! It wasn’t meant to be real.”

“Still. I want to know.”

Sweety distinctly remembered the first time she had painted her ideal wedding into her notebook. She couldn’t have been more than 12 or 13 at that point. She had a rich inner and outer life then. Her family, her friends, her adventures, her small victories, her tiny misfortunes, all of which at that age seem so momentous, found a way into her imagination, and through that expressed via her art. But never had her imagination been more fueled and her art more inspired than when she met Gurvinder, whom she thought was the most beautiful girl she had laid eyes on. Gurvinder was not just good looks, but also whip smart, really funny, and had this dorky side that she mostly kept hidden from her posse of popular friends and that she only revealed, Sweety was convinced, to her. Every passing day, Sweety grew more and more enamored of her. Everything Gurvinder said and did was special. Sweety didn’t know what it was that she was feeling. She thought it was normal to feel that way for your best friend. Everything changed, however, when she got to accompany Gurvinder and her parents to a trip to Amritsar.

Initially, Sweety’s family did not give permission for her to make that trip, even though by then they knew Gurvinder and her family very well. It was only when Gurvinder herself came over and begged and pleaded with that disarming charm of hers that Balbir finally melted and gave in. Sweety remembered being so excited about that trip and was planning for it weeks in advance. She went over what she would wear and what she would take, until Gurvinder reminded her that it was only going to be for two days. Still, Sweety had never been away from her family for so long. And she got to spend two whole days with Gurvinder!

Sweety paused to drink a glass of water. She noticed Kuhu was no longer eating and watching her intently as she listened.

It was in that trip to Amritsar that Sweety first realized the magnitude of her feelings for Gurvinder, and that it wasn’t just friendship. Even though she had had sleepovers at Gurvinder’s house before, it was never just the two of them, and never in the same bed. This time though, they were sharing a double bed in one hotel room. That night, as Gurvinder fell asleep, Sweety lay beside her, her body trembling with physical sensations she had never experienced before. As the hours melted into the darkness of the night, Sweety slowly came to realize what was happening to her. She stole quick glances at the girl’s sleeping form, at her parted lips, at the wisps of hair curling over her face, at the way her chest rose and fell. No longer did Sweety just want to talk and laugh and hold hands with her best friend. In that hotel room, seeing her breath come out in gasps in the streetlights filtering in, Sweety felt an intense desire to do everything to Gurvinder that the love songs talk about.

Kuhu stopped her then. “So, you knew you liked girls at that age?” 

“I knew I liked Gurvinder. I did not know what that meant until much later.”

“Okay. go on. Sorry for interrupting you.”

The next morning. Sweety reminisced with a faraway smile, she was giddy in her newfound discovery. Her happiness had taken on new dimensions. She knew she was in love, and just like Shahrukh Khan had said would happen in **Main Hoon Na** , she also felt like she was hearing violins around her. When they returned to Moga and parted ways, she had hugged Gurvinder tightly, tears stinging at the corners of her eyes. She didn’t want to separate from this girl she had fallen in love with, even if it was going to be only for a few hours until they saw each other at school the next day.

“That’s when I decided I was going to marry her,” Sweety declared. “In my mind, it was the only way I could ensure Gurvinder and I would always be close to each other because married people live together. Then I took out my sketch pad, my paints, and I began painting all the scenes of what our wedding would look like.”

“Aww, that’s adorable.” Kuhu grinned. “Did you and she ever… you know?”

“No!” Sweety said it so vehemently that she attracted more than a few curious looks directed her way. “No,” she whispered softer this time, but no less forcibly.

“Why? Oh wait. Let me guess. You never told her how you felt, did you?”

“No,” Sweety muttered. “But she found out anyway.” And with that, her old wounds opened. She was initially surprised at how raw they still were, how much pain she could still feel thinking about them. She vaguely heard Kuhu asking about Gurvinder. And she vaguely registered her own head shaking. Sweety was already being pulled deep into the vortex that dredging up her past had caused. After that weekend in Amritsar, Sweety had enjoyed a few more weeks of indulgence in the pure bliss of first love. She was completely unaware then that her whole world was going to come crashing down on her after that.

 


End file.
